


Unglued

by Kaetlynn



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Traumatic Brain Injury, is Andy a ghost or is he in Casey's head? we may never know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaetlynn/pseuds/Kaetlynn
Summary: Casey faces the realities of his injuries and a possible career shift. Featuring ghost Andy and concerned Severide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Chicago Fire. NBC and that Law and Order guy own them. I am not making any money whatsoever from this story. I am writing this purely for my and other Chicago Fire fans' personal enjoyment.
> 
> Author's Note: This is a story I wrote a loooooong time ago, originally posted on my Fanfiction.net page(same author name! yay!) and I am now crossposting it to my AO3 account. For some reason I never posted my Chicago Fire fanfictions on my AO3 account. I will be editing it and ironing out a few things. 
> 
> The time frame for Unglued is post episode 2x11, "Shoved In My Face". Long time ago, does anyone even remember what was going on at this point in the show? Blast from the past! This story is rated T for language and thematic elements. The show is TV-14, so there's that.

Unglued

Chapter One

Casey's dreams have all been blurs lately. They were little bits and pieces of memories that ached every time they surfaced: poker, fishing, life at Station 51. Andy was in every single one of them, with his goofy grin and floppy hair. He was vibrant and alive. This dream is different though, right from the beginning. This was the terrible memory that he replayed a thousand times in his mind, and it always ended the same way.

It was that day again. It was just a routine structure fire. No one should have died here. All the casual banter and nuances of that day are playing at a fast clip. Before Casey knows it, he and Andy are both climbing the aerial ladder. Andy's already reached the window, now shattering the glass for entry. Casey is completely paralyzed. He tried to yell at him to stop and to come back, but he had no voice. Andy turns around and flashes a smile before he disappears into the house.

Casey felt his chest ache already. He knew what was coming next. Right on cue, there is a flashover. Andy disappeared into the rush of flame, and Casey ducked to miss the sudden rush of heat and flame that shot out from the window. He clung to the ladder. His chest heaved, his eyes were fixed on the last spot he saw Andy. There was no one there. In the background, Casey was dimly aware of people yelling, but he was frozen on the ladder. A hand clapped him on his back. "Come on, Matt. Let's just get you down from here, okay?" It was Severide.

"No, I gotta go get Andy. He's still in there, Kelly. You saw him go in, right?" Casey could barely hear his own voice. He felt like he was watching himself from outside his body. Severide, damn him, was calm and collected, even professional, at least for now. "I know, buddy. We're going to get him. We've got to wait for them to get everything under control though now, since…" Severide's voice trailed off and he swallowed thickly. "Let's just get down from here right now, okay?"

Casey watched himself climb numbly down the ladder, Severide close behind him. Minutes blur by, and the next thing he knew, he sees Boden motioning and shouting orders, but only heard the word "recovery". He jumped up and ran after Severide and Hadley, but was pulled back by Boden. "You stay here. That's an order, Lieutenant."

Casey felt himself being led to the back of the ambulance. Everything spun sickeningly around him, faces and objects swirled into the smoke. The next thing he knew, Severide and Hadley were coming out of the remains of the charred house. Casey knew they carried Andy's lifeless body.

"Chief, there's another body up there. She was in the closet. The flashover didn't get her, but the smoke did." Severide avoided Casey's eyes. He coughed and smeared soot away from his face. "We're going to go back up there for her, it'll just take a minute."

Boden nodded and stared wordlessly at Andy's body along with Casey. "I can't look at him, Chief. I told him not to go in, he just didn't listen. I should have made him listen!" Casey choked on the last phrase, turning his wide eyes up to Boden.

Boden glanced upwards, his mouth twisted in a frown. "I know. I heard everything on the radio. We don't need to worry about that just yet. Let's just focus on what's in front of us right now."

Casey didn't hear the Chief's words. He was too busy watching Severide and Hadley's last recovery. He recognized everything from the wavy hair to the shoes on her feet. Severide met Casey's wild eyes. "Stay there, Casey. You don't want to see this right now." Casey was already on his feet, past Boden's reach.

"No, no, no! Christ, no," Casey sobbed, "That can't be. This isn't happening." He sank to his knees on the lawn. Severide and Hadley were in front of him, laying out the body for Casey to see. Severide smoothed the soft hair away from the face before he spat, "Don't try to be a hero. She's already gone. You couldn't do anything to save her. You killed Andy. You killed her too, you know. You don't deserve to be Lieutenant. You don't deserve to wear a goddamned badge. You make me sick, Casey."

Casey let out a ragged sob at the sight of Hallie, cold and dead, lying right in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Hallie. So sorry I couldn't do anything…" He reached out for her hand, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she sat up and stared directly into his face. "You did this, Matt. You failed. Everything you do turns to shit. Just ask Andy."

Casey felt frozen in shock and fear, but he didn't have to look far. Andy stood behind him, looking like a charred zombie. His turnout gear was tattered and shredded. His face looked like it had melted off, and the exposed teeth were blackened. The only physical indicator of his identity was the name Darden on the helmet dangling sideways on his skull. Somehow, Casey could tell that Andy was mocking him. "What's the matter, Matt? Can't stand to look at me, huh? I wouldn't exactly say I look like Adonis right now, but I don't think I'm that ugly."

Okay, Casey thought, now I know this is not happening. He ran his hands across his face. "Andy, Hallie, I'm so sorry, you know I am! Please don't do this to me. Please!" Andy and Hallie responded with wicked laughter. "We're not doing anything to you. You're doing it to yourself. It's so fun to watch, Matt," Hallie whispered in Casey's ear, whispers he could barely hear over his own screams.

Casey shook himself into consciousness. He was sweating, and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest. The clock on the bedside table read 3:09. He gasped for air, and stole a worried gaze at Gabby asleep beside him, relieved that his screaming was confined to the dream. She had no idea what he had just been through in his nightmares, and he wanted to keep it that way. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and placed his head in his hands. It had been months since the last time he had a nightmare about Andy, or Hallie.

This one had to be one of the worst ones.

As tired as he had been hours ago when he went to bed, his hellish dream had ruined any former hopes for rest tonight. He wouldn't be sleeping for the rest of the night, that's for sure. He made sure that he wasn't disturbing Gabby, then grabbed a robe and slippers and headed for the kitchen. He could make some tea and at least try to relax.

He crept quietly down the steps in a further effort not to awaken his sleeping partner. He stepped over the squeaky step and onto the first floor landing. Halfway to the kitchen, he saw a figure sitting at the dining room table.

Now I know there's something wrong with me, Casey thought. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. "Andy, is that you?" Casey managed to gasp out before reaching for a chair in an attempt to regain his balance.

"Hey, buddy. You're not just going to stand there with your mouth open, are you?"

To be continued in Chapter Two


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago Fire or the characters of the show. NBC and Mr. Wolf own them. I'm not making any money whatsoever off of this story.
> 
> Author's Note: I wanted to clarify where I'm going with this story. If anyone has seen the show Rescue Me (the full series is available on Netflix if you're interested), you know that PTSD and its effects are a crucial plot thread in the show. I am drawing inspiration from that plot thread for my story. I just really like the plot of a tormented firefighter seeing and talking to his dead buddy. I really do think that even earlier on in Chicago Fire, Casey most likely(completely)has/had PTSD and also probably depression. On top of the physical problems such as the TBI(remember how they just completely dropped that storyline? yeah me too). Oh well, still love watching the show and playing with the characters in Microsoft Word.

Chapter Two

"Hey, buddy. You're not just going to stand there with your mouth open, are you?"

Casey gaped at the sight of Andy Darden, sitting at his dining room table with his legs propped up on the tabletop. "I get it. This is just part of that dream, right? You're just breaking my balls. Or I'm breaking my own balls, because this is a dream. I'm dreaming you're sitting here right now."

Andy looked puzzled. "No, I don't think so. You're walking around. You're awake. By the way, how do I look? I think I look pretty good for a dead guy, right?" Andy grinned from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe I'm a little bit pale, but I'm dead. Give me a break." Casey chuckled and sat down next to Andy at the table. "You look better than you did in my dream, that's for sure."

Andy frowned. "You've been having a really rough time lately, haven't you, Matt?" Casey flinched at hearing his first name. "Why do you think that? I'm sitting here talking to a dead guy, who I think I actually see sitting in front of me. That's completely normal." 

Andy laughed. "I know you almost bought it at that fire, and ever since you haven't been yourself. You couldn't have said it any better. You're talking to a dead guy. That should be a wake-up call for you, man."

Casey swallowed thickly. "I had a month off work to recover. I almost lost my mind. I had to go back." Casey laughed at his choice of words. "Well, I guess you could say I did actually lose my mind a little bit. I've been blacking out. I'm not even drunk. It just happens. I don't even know it is going on until after I come back around." He picked at a hangnail. "I'm scared, Andy. I'm scared I'm going to blackout at a rescue. I'm scared Gabby's going to find out. I'm scared that I don't have any control over anything that is going on in my life right now." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the hot burn of tears.

Andy's eyes were soft and gentle. "You went back to work too soon, Matt. If the doctor knew, hell, if Boden knew what you were going through, you wouldn't be back at the house. You know you're not just lying to everybody else; you're lying to yourself too. You're going to get hurt, or…" 

Casey cut Andy off and spat out angrily, "Or what? I'll get someone else hurt, or killed? That's what I do, isn't it?"

Andy looked sad. "Come on. That's not what I meant, you know I'm not mad at you. I was the stupid son of a bitch who couldn't listen and wait. You're my brother. If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you're a much tougher bastard than you look. Everything you've been through proves that." Casey's thoughts were flooded by the events of the last two years. His and Hallie's engagement, his and Hallie's broken engagement, Andy's death, Heather's DUI, his taking care of Ben and Griffin, Hallie's unexpected death, the Dardens' moving away, starting a relationship with Gabby, and finally his traumatic brain injury. Fuck the traumatic brain injury; he was a mess already without having to deal with that.

"I feel like I'm coming unglued, Andy." Casey's voice cracked on Andy's name. "Firefighting is one of the only things I have left. If I tell someone what's going on, I'm finished."

Andy placed a hand over Casey's shoulder. He couldn't feel a thing. "You're tired, Matt. You need to rest. I know you. You'll make the right decision."

"The right decision is to go back to sleep?" Casey rubbed his tired eyes. Andy laughed, and pointed to the couch. "I'd say that's your best bet, unless you want to wake up Gabby. Congratulations on that, by the way. I'm glad you're not alone right now. She's good for you, man."

Casey crashed on the couch and pulled the oversized fleece blanket around him. "Yeah, she really is." He sat back up and looked back where he had last seen Andy. He was gone. Casey sank back down on the couch and tried to clear his head. These dreams he'd been having lately were just getting worse and worse, if not weirder and weirder.

Hours later, Gabby woke to an empty bed. That wasn't so unusual lately, Matt had been having trouble sleeping since he came back home. She suspected nightmares, but he hadn't offered to share, so she didn't ask. His behavior had been odd enough anyway, and she didn't want to risk him shutting her out. She knew she would find him fast asleep on the couch downstairs.

She stretched out over the top sheet. Today was going to be a good day. Somehow, both of them had been able to get the same day off, which was a miracle in and of itself. A day spent relaxing together was exactly what they needed. First, she needed to get moving and start some breakfast. She hopped out of bed, slid her feet into fuzzy slippers, and slipped on a cozy robe.

Matt was stretched across the couch, his gangly legs dangled across the armrest. He was sound asleep. Gabby hated to wake him; he looked like he was getting some real sleep for the first time in ages. She didn't even remember him getting up last night. She must have been out like a light too.

She headed to the kitchen to start some coffee. Hopefully she could just wake up Matt quietly and gently with the smell of breakfast. He needs to sleep in as long as he can. Gabby measured out enough coffee for a full pot. She had gone to the grocery yesterday, the fridge and pantry was completely stocked for whatever they felt like making. She finally decided on whipping up some Greek yogurt pancakes with fruit and honey and some scrambled eggs.

The coffee smelled amazing, rich, and dark. Gabby hunted in the fridge for some veggies to chop up and mix into the eggs. Peppers and mushrooms sounded good. She chopped the pepper into quarters, and nimbly diced one of the quarters into small chunks. The mushrooms were next. With the veggies all chopped, she went to fix the pancake batter next. She had cracked the egg open into the yogurt cup and begun to mix it together when she felt warm hands encircle her waist.

"Good morning, beautiful," Matt planted a kiss on her cheek. "I smelled coffee. I thought maybe we had kitchen elves taking over the house or something." Gabby laughed. "You can help if you want. I measured out some flour and baking soda. You can mix this into it." Gabby held out the plastic yogurt cup. "Did you sleep okay? You were out when I came downstairs this morning."

Matt mixed the pancake batter. "Yeah. Slept like a baby. I thought I heard something in the middle of the night, that's all. I got up to check, and I guess I just fell back asleep on the couch." He changed the subject deftly, "What do we have on the agenda for today? Anything special you want to do?"

Gabby poured two cups of coffee and opened the fridge for some creamer. "I was going to ask you the same thing. I told Antonio I'd stop by the bakery; I need to give Laura some photos. Eva's doing some kind of family tree project for school. That won't take too long. Other than that, the entire day is free."

Matt stirred the hazelnut cream into his coffee. "I was thinking, you know, if it's okay with you, we could stop by the cemetery. I wanted to leave some flowers on Hallie's grave, and stop by Andy's too. I know they're not at the same cemetery, but they're not too far away from each other." Gabby flipped the pancakes and nodded, "We can do that. We can stop on the way and get some flowers to take with us." She paused, mentally switching gears. "We could pick up a bottle of wine to go with dinner tonight. I was thinking we could stay in and have a quiet night. We can watch a movie and just take it easy."

Matt immediately picked up on Gabby's reluctance to go out and do anything, well, outside of the house. Not after what had happened the other night at the restaurant. It was probably just better for him to agree with Gabby at this point. Just take it easy, and he could prove to her he was doing okay. It might take some time, that's all. "Sure, babe. That sounds good." He set the table with two plates and forks. "Did you bring in the paper this morning?"

Gabby shook her head. "No. You want to go grab it while I finish up here? I'll have a plate ready for you by the time you get back." Matt grabbed his coffee cup and placed another kiss on her cheek. He walked to the front door, ignoring the spot in the dining room where he had seen Andy last night. He opened the front door to an unusually sunny morning. The paper was halfway to the street, as usual. He hopped down the front stoop to recover the newspaper. He had the paper in his hand and had just started to turn back around to walk back inside when something across the street caught his eye. He shielded his eyes from the sun's rays, squinting to look.

The coffee cup he had been holding fell and shattered on the concrete walkway, coffee splashing halfway up his pajama-clad legs. It was Hallie. She was standing directly across the street; staring at him. Matt was breathing heavily now. "Get the fuck away from me! Why can't you just leave me alone! Just leave me alone, leave me alone!"

Gabby had run from the kitchen the second she heard the crash of ceramic. "Matt! What's wrong? What happened?" She pulled him around to face her; placed her palm on his cheek. "You're ice cold. Who were you yelling at?"

Matt pointed across the street where he had seen Hallie. "Look across the street. Someone's messing with me. There's someone, she's, um," He trailed off. He couldn't tell her he saw his dead fiancée across the street. Gabby rubbed Matt's shoulders. "There's nobody there, Matt. Are you okay? I'm worried about you." She stooped to pick up the shards of the coffee cup. 

Matt looked disoriented, confused, and more than a little angry. "I'm sorry. I thought I saw something. The sun must have gotten into my eyes. It's really bright out here this morning." He cleared his throat. "I got the paper, anyway. Let's just go back in and have some breakfast. We're gonna have a good day today, I promise, babe." Gabby nodded. She didn't quite believe him, but arguing at this point was going to get her nowhere. "Okay. Sounds good."

Every single strange action from Matt was suspect to her now. She wasn't a doctor, but he was acting like he had some serious, lasting effects from his brain injury. All she could do was keep a close eye on him; try to make sure he was okay. All the same, she was still going to shoot Severide a text later. If Matt wouldn't listen to her, maybe he would listen to Severide.

To be continued in Chapter Three


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago Fire or the characters of the show. NBC and Mr. Wolf own them. I'm not making any money whatsoever off of this story.
> 
> I am going to continue to edit and repost this story on AO3, hopefully I will have it done by the end of tomorrow or Monday. No big changes, just tiny things that bugged me. 
> 
> Not really a Dawsey story, keep in mind the story fits in the second half of the second season. I tried to work this story into the existing canon.

 

Unglued

Chapter 3

Matt's not been himself. Maybe you can talk to him during next shift? I'm worried about him.

Send.

Gabby immediately regretted the text she had sent Severide. Maybe she had no right dragging other people into Matt's business. Then again, there was that feeling she had that something just wasn't right with Matt. She didn't really know what a normal recovery from a traumatic brain injury was, but Matt had really been scaring her lately. The other day, for instance, when he went out to get the paper and dropped his coffee cup. The way he had stared across the street like he'd seen a ghost and then completely lost his temper was disconcerting at best. He had tried to play it off like nothing was wrong, but Gabby could see straight through it. He wasn't okay, but there wasn't anything she could say to get him to open up now. She hated that they both had to go back to work today. She hated being away from Matt, but she knew that there were people at the house who had his back. The guilt she initially felt after sending Severide the text was starting to fade.

Matt didn't have to arrive at work until nine, and Gabby had tried to stay as quiet as possible getting ready that morning. Matt was still sleeping soundly; his own alarm wouldn't ring for another half hour or so. Gabby had fixed a boring but quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruit for herself while she perused the newspaper. The coffee had just finished brewing, and she fixed a cup just the way Matt liked it. She walked up the steps, newspaper and coffee in hand. Gabby peeked around the corner of the bedroom door. He was still asleep. She sat the steaming mug and paper on the table next to the bed, tiptoeing her way back out of the room. So she didn't wake him up to say goodbye. She could make up for it later. Gabby grinned wickedly to herself as she closed the front door behind her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Matt woke and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to force the blurriness away. Even after what should have been a restful night, he still felt exhausted. He did not want to go in to work today. Not going in, however, might raise some red flags that all was not as well as he pretended. He would just have to suck it up and hope the city didn't go too crazy today. Gabby had already left for the Academy that morning, although she didn't leave before bringing him some coffee and the newspaper. Matt didn't know what to make of the fact that she didn't wake him up before she left. He'd have to call her later.

He trudged across the room to the bathroom and grabbed the sink with both hands, steadying himself against the wave of dizziness that threatened to knock him to the ground. Thank god Gabby wasn't here to see that. She wouldn't let it go. Through blurred vision, he saw Andy's reflection in the mirror. "Maybe you should take the day off. Go back and see your doc again." Andy was leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed against his chest. "Besides, you look like complete shit. Sorry, but it's true. Chief's gonna know something's wrong with you. Look in the mirror for yourself." Andy motioned to the mirror above the sink. Wordlessly, Matt turned back around to look at his reflection.

Andy was right, as much as he hated to admit it. His face was pale, almost sickly, a stark contrast to the dark smudges under his eyes. Matt's fingertips ghosted over the faint lines around his sunken eyes. He hadn't shaved for two days. "Okay. Fine, I look like shit, plus I look like an old man. I'm not trying to win a beauty contest. I need to go back to work today. If I don't, I'm going to just go crazy cooped up in the house." Matt grabbed the tube of toothpaste and turned around to face Andy. "Anyway, isn't there anyone else you can go haunt? Can't you go down and say hey to Heather or your kids?"

Andy's mouth twitched in a smirk. "It doesn't exactly work like that. I'm being serious. You're going to work yourself into an early grave here. Trust me; I'm the expert on dying young and early graves."

Matt couldn't come up with anything to say. He just stood and stared at Andy. Suddenly, a rush of sticky, icy paste went everywhere. He had clenched his fists so tightly that the tube of toothpaste exploded. He wiped away a minty glob of toothpaste from his forehead. "I know you're the expert on being dead. Every time you show up you remind me," Matt choked. He fumbled for a towel to wipe up the toothpaste splatter on the floor. It had gone everywhere. The floor, the mirror, he even saw some on the ceiling. Andy placed a towel in his hand. "Here. Use this. Just go get ready for work. Don't forget, talk to somebody today. Tell Severide I said hi, will ya?" Andy laughed.

Head down while he wiped up the rest of the toothpaste, Matt's eyes grew watery at the sound of Andy's familiar laugh. He stood up and turned around to face him, but he was gone. A second dizzy wave threatened to overtake him, and he instinctively gripped the sink again. So he had to talk to Severide? Was that what Andy was trying to tell him? He saw that going a million different ways, none of them good. He was good friends with Severide. They had their differences and misunderstandings, especially after Andy's death; they had been able to overcome those problems. That didn't mean that Matt wanted to tell Severide just how fucked up he was now. Matt sighed and ran a hand over the short, razor-cut hair on the back of his head. Today would be rough, one way or the other.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The headache had started halfway through the first call of the day. It was an alarm malfunction at a local elementary school. The fire alarm was so loud to Matt, so invasive, that he swore he could actually see the throbbing of the alarm as it beat into his head. After the all clear was given and the truck and squad made available again, Matt slumped into the front seat of the truck. He took a long drink from a bottle of water and poured some on his head. He thought his head was exploding. Matt squeezed his eyes shut and dug at them with the palms of his hands.

"Hey, you okay?" Joe Cruz's voice cut through the throbbing. "You gonna be sick in my truck, boss?" Matt opened his eyes to a genuinely concerned Cruz. Matt shook his head. "I'm fine. Just a little headache. I didn't have my coffee this morning." He twisted the cap back on his water. "No big deal. I'll get something for it as soon as I get back to the station." Cruz shrugged. "If you say so, Lieutenant. You might not want to get back to the station so quickly. Otis is making lunch today. No one knows what that could mean."

It turned out that it meant that Otis had made lasagna from a recipe Katie gave him. She had apparently claimed it was idiot proof, and the empty pans soaking in the sink seemed to prove her claim. The day had been unusually slow. While everyone else retreated to the sofas or table to wait for the next call, Matt quietly exited the room. Severide had watched him closely all day. That text from Dawson had left him unnerved. Maybe later he would be able to check in with him.

Matt rifled through his locker for some ibuprofen. His headache had gotten even worse since he had returned to the house. He didn't like to admit it to himself, but he was beginning to think he wasn't as okay as he thought he was. With trembling hands, he found the pill bottle. He almost dropped it when the locker door shut suddenly, and Andy was standing where the locker door had been. "Headache's back, huh? I see you really followed my advice this morning. Good choice." The sarcasm was dripping from Andy's tone. Matt turned and all but ran to the Lieutenant's quarters. He could hear Andy's voice at his back, "Oh, so you're ignoring me now? Nice."

Matt desperately turned the knob to his office and rushed in. He slumped against the back of the door, savoring the momentary peace in the dark room. He wasn't quick enough for Andy, though. Andy had beaten him to the room and was sitting on the bed. "Don't try to outrun a dead guy, Matt. I can float through doors and walls now. So, about the brain stuff. You're talking to someone, today." Matt crashed on the bed and sat next to Andy. "I talk to someone, especially someone here, I'm finished. That's all. I'm stuck pushing papers around until I can draw a pension."

Andy laughed. "What the hell's the matter with that? You don't have to worry about dying on the job. Someone has to do the desk jobs; no one would look down on you for that. Anyway, you're jumping to the worst case scenario. You haven't gone back to your doctor. You have no idea what he's going to tell you. You might be fine and just need more recovery time." Matt tossed back several ibuprofen and washed them down with a long drink of water. "My luck, I would get a pink slip instead of the desk job. Why not, that's just how everything else has gone lately, straight to shit." His fingers gripped the half-empty glass in his hand. Andy stood up and headed for the door. "It's getting to be a problem for you. People are going to notice. It won't take much now for someone to think you're not okay. I've tried to tell you." Matt looked up as Andy disappeared. He angrily flung the glass at the opposite wall, oblivious to the knock at the door. "Goddammit, Andy!" The door suddenly swung open. "Who are you talking to?" It was Severide.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 4

"Who are you talking to?" It was Severide.

Shit. Matt looked like a deer in headlights. "Nobody." He looked away from the broken glass and puddle of water in the corner. Of all the possible ways this conversation could be going down, this was the absolute worst out of all the possible options. Matt didn't think it was possible for him to bluff his way out of this one.

"What do you mean nobody? I heard you say Andy's name. What's been going on with you lately? You've got a lot of people worried about you, and I have to say I'm actually freaked out now." Severide shut the door behind him. "Are you talking to Andy? I heard you say his name. I heard you!"

Casey crossed his arms and readied himself to go on the defensive, but Severide cut him off quickly. "Before you say anything, let me remind you who you're talking to. I was the one who worked for months with a neck injury while shooting up during work. I thought I was fooling everybody too. You can't bullshit a bullshitter, Casey. So once again, what's going on with you?"

Casey looked up at Severide. He swallowed the gigantic lump that had settled in his throat. Casey had expected to look up at Severide and see a judgmental, angry face staring him back. He found the exact opposite: Severide's eyes were open and kind, his face worried and pleading. Casey would have lost it right there, if not for the klaxons sounding for their next call.

"Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Battalion 25. Structure fire. 4529 Hilltop Avenue."

Severide and Casey began towards the engine bay, side by side. "We're not done here, man." Severide grabbed Casey's shoulder and clapped him on the back. "We'll talk later." Casey nodded inaudibly as he stepped away from Severide and up into the truck. Hermann was already grumbling from the back. "What is this, the third time this month we've been called out to those abandoned apartments? This time we should just let the damn thing burn. Save the city some money in demolition costs. If it weren't for the squatters everyone knows are the ones accidentally starting the fires, we wouldn't even be going inside that dumpster." Smoke was already visible in the distance. "This is a bad one, Casey. I can tell."

Casey exhaled heavily as the truck sped through the streets. A sense of dread settled heavily in his stomach. It wasn't just that they were going on a run to a building they knew had been already damaged by fire. It wasn't even the idea that he was working at partial capacity from the raging headache that hadn't even begun to go away. Maybe it because Severide now knew that he had put on a front this whole time, and he was just waiting for him to call him out, or worse, report him.

Cruz maneuvered the truck on Hilltop Avenue and into chaos. The building was abandoned for years, and was infamous for the number of squatters it housed. The city had tried and failed at boarding up the entrances and lower level windows. The brutal winter this year had made everything worse. People with no other place to go trying to keep warm inadvertently turned buildings like this one into a tinderbox. Usually the fires had been on the first or second floor. This time was different. There was heavy smoke showing directly in the middle of the top floor of the building. Casey contacted Boden on the radio, "That's going to spread, and it's going to spread quickly, Chief. We need backup, now." Boden immediately radioed for a second and third alarm.

"We gotta go in and do a sweep, Lieutenant." Severide motioned to a man standing across the street. "He said there are people in there, on the second floor. They didn't make it out yet. Other than that, everyone else is all out." Casey strapped the oxygen tank on his back. "Let's do it, the sooner the better. This whole place is coming down this time." Mouch and Cruz pried the board off of the front entrance. Smoke billowed out of the open mouth, thick and acrid. Hermann and Otis followed close behind Casey into the building. There were no doors left on the first floor apartments, making it easier to see if there were people inside. "Fire department! Call out! Fire department!" Hermann pounded on the door jambs, "All clear, Lieutenant! Headed for the second floor!"

Casey motioned and shouted back to Hermann, "Right behind you!" The inside of the building was darker than most; the boarded up windows prevented any natural light from coming in, the heavy smoke making it even worse. The flashlights they all carried barely lit their way through the dark, smoky interior. The second floor was even more smoky than the first. If there were people trapped on this floor somewhere, they were probably going to be carried out. Otis and Hermann's voices ricocheted down the empty hallway. "Is anyone here, call out! Fire department!" 

Somewhere along the way, Casey lost track of Otis and Hermann. They had to be right behind him, and he could still hear them on the radio. Casey saw movement out of the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it was just a trick of the smoke, but at a second glance, a human figure became clear. Casey walked towards them. "Fire department! Let's get you out of here, huh? This building's coming down. We gotta go!" The figure became clearer, and Casey's heart nearly stopped when he recognized the face. "Hallie." His voice barely squeaked out her name. "No, not now, this is not happening now," He could hear Otis shouting in the background that they had found the other squatters, and they had to get out now. Casey couldn't move. He was frozen in that spot, eyes locked on Hallie's. She was beautiful, her hair curly and soft, and her skin smooth and creamy. More than that, she was right in front of him, like she was alive. She reached out and touched his hand. He felt her hand on his, warm and real. "God, Hallie. I miss you. I miss you so much. I don't know how you're here now, but I love you. I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you in time."

Hermann was at the doorway, shouting at him. The exact words were lost in the chaos and noise, but Casey didn't care. He gently lifted Hallie's hand to his lips and kissed it. He looked up into what he thought was Hallie's face, and was shocked to see Andy instead, clad in full turnout gear and helmet, his mask hanging loose around his neck. "Whoa. Cool it, Matt. I know we're buds, you don't have to kiss me to prove it. I won't stop you if you want to." He grinned. "Seriously, though, you gotta wake up, brother. You need to get the hell out of here, unless you want to come join me. This place is coming down. Severide's already on his way up to get you. Otis and Hermann couldn't get you out so they radioed for help. You didn't even hear them." Casey dropped the hand he had clasped tightly. "What did you do with Hallie? She was right here!" Andy raised his eyes. "You might want to say that name a little louder so Severide can hear you." Casey felt a hand slap him in the face, then grip his arm tightly. It was Severide, just like Andy had told him. "What the fuck, Casey? Are you with me? What are you still doing up here?" Casey opened his mouth, as Severide pulled him towards the door. "Don't explain now. We need to get out of here first. There's going to be explaining, though. We have to get out of here before the whole fucking place comes down on top of us." Andy followed quickly behind them. "It's a good thing you got here so quickly, Severide. Another minute and Casey here would have been under a pile of burning collapsed apartment. He would have had to have a closed casket like I did, his pretty face would have melted off just like mine," Andy laughed.

"No, I wouldn't, Andy. I would have gotten out," Casey rasped. Severide gripped Casey's arm around his neck even tighter. "I'm not Andy, Matt." Both of the first names tripped on his tongue. "It's Kelly. We're almost out now." The light from the street flooded them with relief. Severide and Casey stepped out into safety and fresh air. The feeling of dread immediately returned to Casey's stomach, after having disappeared for the time being. What just happened, in that apartment building, that was it. His pink slip was as good as delivered.

Severide held Casey in front of him with both arms. "Are you okay? You were just standing there, talking. There wasn't anyone there. I heard you say Hallie's name. Andy's too. I heard you back at the station too. You were in there talking to Andy, weren't you?" Casey shook his head violently. "I don't know. I thought I saw someone in there. I went in to get them out, and the next thing I know," His voice trailed off in a coughing spasm. "There wasn't anyone there, and the next thing I know, you were in there with me, dragging me out." He took a long pull from an icy bottle of water Severide handed him. He could tell that Severide didn't buy what he was saying.

"Bullshit." Severide spat out. "You were talking to somebody. Somebody could've been killed up there, Casey." Under his breath, he added, "It wouldn't have been the first time it happened, either." His words made their way to Casey's ears, where they stung him deeply. He grabbed Severide by the front of his turnout coat and slammed him against the side of the rig. "You got a lot of balls to bring that up, what I supposedly did, after you were the one who was working stoned for months."

Suddenly, a roar sounded from inside the apartment, and Severide and Casey turned to watch. The upper floors had collapsed. The rickety, brittle second and first floors collapsed along with them into the basement. Fire exploded upwards in a tremendous blast. Severide shook Casey's hands from him and spat out, "Another thirty seconds and we would've been buried in there. You have some balls to make me look like the bad guy."

Casey stared at the building and then back to Severide, unaware that Boden and half of the station was surrounding him and Severide, watching their conversation play out. "I'm sorry, Kelly. I…." Casey's voice broke. "I said I thought I saw someone, it looked like Hallie. God. It was her. I even kissed her hand; at least I thought I did. Then Andy was there. I see him sometimes, on and off since my accident. It was like time stopped. He was telling me to get out of there, and the next thing I remember you were in there with me, dragging me out." He stopped, pulled off his helmet, and dragged his arm across his sooty face. "I didn't mean to put anyone in danger, especially you. I let this get out of hand. It's my fault." His eyes were already watering from the smoke, now Casey was dangerously close to tears. He choked them back. The last thing he needed was to appear even weaker than he already did.

Severide's blue eyes looked watery too. "You're going to be okay. You have your head out of your ass; that's the first step." He forced a laugh. "You know you're going to be sitting out the rest of the shift, right? Boden's going to suspend you and force you to go to the hospital."

Casey nodded. He saw Boden walking towards him. "Lieutenant Casey. You had better put your helmet back on, because you have gotten yourself in a whole shitstorm of trouble."

To be continued in Chapter 5


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or the characters.  
> This is a short interlude of a chapter, the rest of the story will be edited and uploaded by the end of tomorrow!

Chapter 5

"Lieutenant Casey. You had better put your helmet back on, because you have gotten yourself in a whole shitstorm of trouble." To say Boden was angry was an immense understatement. "Just what the hell happened inside there? I had the rest of the truck over the radio calling for help because they couldn't get you out of the building. You and Severide could have been caught in the collapse. I heard everything you just told Severide. You know what I'm going to say, right, Lieutenant Casey?" Boden took off his helmet and looked Casey in the face. Casey coughed a raspy, smoky cough. "I have an idea, Chief."

"I can't have my people getting hurt." Boden's eyes softened. "Look, you know this is procedure. This has to go in the report. However, I won't put specifics in the report, if, and this is a big goddamn if, Casey; if you go to the doctor and tell them everything you just told Severide. Do we understand each other?" Casey nodded. "Yes we do, Chief."

Boden put his helmet back on and clapped Casey on the shoulder. "Good. Just have a seat in the truck until we're done here." Casey hobbled over to the cab of the truck and sank into the seat, alone. He could see Chief Boden talking to Severide. There were a lot of hand motions going on. Both of them turned to look in his direction. Casey could almost feel their eyes boring holes in him. He closed his own stinging eyes. With any luck this day would be over soon and he would be get home to relax. 

"Hey, Matt." Severide had used his first name again. Casey had forgotten how it sounded. "You okay? You need me to get Shay and Rafferty over here?" Severide's eyes were soft and concerned, and Casey almost lost it again. "No. I'm fine. Just need to get out of here is all. Hell of a day." Severide climbed behind the wheel of the truck. "Chief asked me to hang out here, just until we get back to the station. I know he sounded pissed, but he just doesn't want anything to happen to any of his people. You know that, right?" Casey nodded his head in understanding. He had been a man of few words lately. Sweat had trickled down Casey's face, streaking through a layer of soot and grime. It could have just as easily been tears. Casey raised a sooty towel to his forehead in silence, trying his damnedest to escape the nightmare that was unfolding around him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

8:30 A.M. The next day. 

Kelly pulled up in front of Gabby and Matt's apartment and put his car in park. He could see Matt sitting on the front steps, his head held in his hands. There was a cold cup of coffee and an unopened newspaper next to him. Steeling himself against what he knew was going to likely be a painful meeting, Kelly got out of his car and slammed the door as he began walking towards him. "Hey, man. I thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing. I brought breakfast." Kelly held up a brown paper bag. "Bagels and cream cheese."

Matt didn't even look up. "Not hungry." His voice was raspy. Kelly didn't wait for an invitation; he placed the bag on Matt's lap and sat down next to him on the steps. "I talked to the Chief this morning. I thought I'd come see how you were doing." He pulled out a pack of smokes and shook out a cigarette. He stared at it before placing it between his lips. He pulled out a Zippo from his pocket and lit up. The first rush of smoke filled his lungs and hit that spot in his brain immediately. He exhaled a long stream of white smoke and crossed his feet in front of him.

Matt snorted. "Do you want the long or short version?" He shocked Kelly when he reached and grabbed a cigarette from the open pack. He handed him the lighter and watched as Matt, uncharacteristically, lit up and inhaled. "I didn't know you smoked." Matt shook his head. "Not really." He exhaled twin plumes of smoke through his nose. "I went to a doctor yesterday." His expression changed drastically, from forced levity to near despair. He was shaking. "It's bad, Kelly." He fumbled with the cigarette between his fingers. "There are some things that are going to be wrong with me, permanently."

Kelly took a deep drag on his cigarette. "What do you mean, permanently? Are we talking a few months to a year here, or like, permanently permanently?" Kelly thought he already knew the answer to that question, but he had no idea what else to say. This had to be a nightmare for Matt, it felt like a nightmare to him.

Matt turned to look at Kelly. "I'm being retired from Firehouse 51. I'm going on disability. I'm done." His eyes welled up with tears. "Ever since the accident months ago, I haven't felt the same. I couldn't explain it, but I just thought that I was having a normal recovery. People like me with a brain injury like I have, there's all kinds of outcomes. Nothing is certain. I just got the short end of the stick." Matt's voice was getting raspy and choked. "I've had a headache almost every day since I woke up from that surgery. I started seeing things, hallucinating. I was seeing people who died. I was having whole conversations with them. The other day in that apartment fire, that wasn't the first time I was seeing dead people."

Severide fought to keep his emotions off of his face. What Matt was saying scared the hell out of him, but he didn't want to show it. "You've been talking to dead people, as in this is an everyday occurence? Who were you seeing?" Severide knew; he just knew what Matt was going to say. "Were you talking to Andy?"

The tears that had stung Casey's eyes broke away and poured down his cheeks as he nodded. "The first time I saw him I thought I was dreaming. But it kept happening. I was seeing Hallie too. But I was actually talking to Andy. It was so real. It is so real, Kelly." He stubbed out the cigarette he had let burn out in his hand. "I know it wasn't real, but it felt good to be able to talk to someone I thought was gone forever. I haven't seen Andy since yesterday. I don't know if I should be glad I'm not hallucinating, or sad that I haven't talked to him." He angrily swiped at the wetness on his cheeks. "That's just one of the reasons I'm going on disability. My memory hasn't been that great. I've blacked out too. I got Gabby and I kicked out of a restaurant the other day. I can't remember what happened. I guess I picked a fight with another guy at the restaurant. The other day at the fire at the diamond exchange, the one with those crooks? I blacked out and the next thing I know I'm beating the shit out of Mouch. I don't know why I was doing it." Casey shuddered. 

"None of that really matters anymore, though. I already have a job lined up downtown. A desk job, at least for now. I'm going to try to get into teaching at the academy eventually, but a desk job is probably the best thing for me now. It just," Casey stopped himself. "I feel like I've already given up. Just moving from Station 51 to a desk job downtown, it feels like giving up." He stared at Severide, his eyes wide and pleading. "Tell me it's not giving up, Kelly."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 6

Lakeshore Hospital, yesterday afternoon

Having to leave the firehouse early because of his personal shit was not at the top of the list of Matthew Casey's favorite things. Being forced to go to the hospital by his Chief under vague threat of dismissal was even further down the list. Casey knew that Boden was just following procedure, but the dread in his gut was stronger than ever. After the apartment fire, he was more aware than he had ever been of the lingering effects of his injury. He had been closer than ever to hurting someone else because he wasn't being honest with himself about how okay he was or wasn't.

The worst part to Casey, was that he couldn't even remember the time he was supposedly in that room in the burning apartment. He remembered seeing Andy, for sure. He thought he saw Hallie too. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything else until Severide came in and practically dragged him out. He didn't remember hearing Hermann yelling at him or trying to get him out. His memory of the event was blurry and dream-like. Worst of all, he hated that he let his mask slip at the worst possible time, at a multiple-alarm fire. Now he was in the waiting room at Lakeshore, waiting to see a Doctor for an injury he had thought was behind him.

Casey thought back to when he left the firehouse earlier, alone after returning from the apartment fire. He wasn't even going to bother to change out of his smoky shift clothes. He had wordlessly grabbed his duffel bag and keys from the locker room and tried to split as soon as possible without awkward interactions with anyone else who had seen him come undone on the job. Of course Otis had to be the one he crossed paths with before making a clean getaway. This had to be one of the first times Casey had seen a quiet Otis without even a speck of smartass on his face. To his surprise, Otis didn't say anything, just nodded his head at him as he passed; a wordless good luck in his eyes. God. Even Otis has nothing to say to him. 

Boden passed him on his way through the engine bay. "Hey. Why don't you come back to my office for a minute, Lieutenant. You're not trying to sneak out on me, are you?" He reached for Casey's duffel bag and eased it to the floor. "Just for a minute. Then you are getting your ass to the hospital like we agreed."

The walk to Boden's office seemed longer than usual. Casey was incredibly aware of everyone's eyes on him as they walked past the kitchen and living room area. He could just imagine what they were all thinking. All he had proven in not getting help sooner was that he was a stubborn bastard who didn't care if he put his teammates in harms' way. Casey imagined he was going to be completely deserving of whatever was coming his way.

Even the Chief's office seemed oppressive and cold to Casey. It had never seemed that way in the past. He followed Boden through the doors and stood blankly. "Go ahead and shut that door, Casey, and have a seat." Casey did as asked and sank into the chair directly in front of Boden's desk. Boden had pulled out a file from his desk and laid it in front of him, slamming the file drawer shut loudly. "Do you know what this file is, Lieutenant?"

Casey licked his dry lips and raised his eyebrows. "Not sure, Chief. Probably a report about me." Boden flipped open the file and held up the top paper for Casey to see. "It's your accident report from last month. Do you want to tell me what you wrote in it?" Casey leaned over and reached out for the file before Boden snatched it away. "You don't need to read it off the page, Casey. You wrote it, didn't you?"

Casey swallowed thickly. "Of course I did. I just, you know. I thought I was fine. The truth is, Chief, I can't remember things half the time. I keep seeing….things." Boden put down the file. "Like Darden?" Casey nodded quietly.

"Well, Casey, I have to say that seeing your dead best friend is a pretty big goddamn clue that you're not fine." Boden stood up and paced to the window. "I know how rough it was to lose Darden. Firehouse 51 does not need to lose another one. No one is going to judge you, Casey. You just need to get better, whatever it takes. If you need to take an extended leave of absence, then you just need to do it. Truck will still be here for you when you get back."

Casey heard Boden clearly, but still heard the unspoken if you get back in his words. "I know, Chief. Did you need me to fill out a report for today, or…" His voice trailed off. Boden cut Casey off quickly. "No. Not yet. Just go to the hospital and get checked out. We can do the report later." Boden watched as Casey stood up a little too quickly and made for the door. He looked terrified. Boden immediately felt strangely guilty. He was simply following procedure, but he felt like he had just delivered a beating to an already beaten man. He turned back to the door to wish Casey luck, but he had already escaped.

Casey took the back way out of the station, quietly, through the side entrance in the dorms. He quietly shut the door before he remembered he had left his duffel bag in the engine bay where Boden had stopped him. Now he would have to go back into the firehouse through the giant doors, and anyone who was in the engine bay would know he had tried to skip out secretly not once, but twice. He thought about leaving his bag there, when he also remembered he had slipped his keys into the side pocket. Shit, Casey thought, I can't even walk out after that clusterfuck with a shred of dignity left. 

As Casey had feared, squad had moved from the living room to their special squad-only table in the engine bay. Severide was already watching him make a wary entrance, and got up to meet him. "Tried to escape, huh?"

"No. Well, maybe a bit."

"I thought so. Headed to the hospital?"

"As soon as everyone lets me get out of here." Silence. "Sorry about what I said earlier. About your shoulder and the drugs. I had no right to bring that up, and I'm sorry."

Severide waved his hand, as if to dismiss Casey. "Don't worry about it. You going to Lakeshore?"

"Yeah. To the ER, I'll probably have an EEG and a CT scan and all that again. Then I get to go home and have an uncomfortable conversation with Gabby. She's going to know that I have been lying to her for weeks. She's still at the academy now. I don't even know where to begin to explain all this to her." Casey looked miserable.

"I'm sure she'll understand, although she might really give it to you first." Severide shoved his hands into his pockets awkwardly. "Give me a call later, okay?" Casey picked up his duffel bag and fumbled for his keys. "'Kay." His one-word grunted reply sounded strained to Severide. "I'll call you."

Severide knew not to expect a call from Casey. He figured he would either forget, or retreat and avoid and further discussion of his injury. He watched Casey's slumped figure trudge to his truck parked in the street. Casey looked like someone who had already given up; as if the events of the past few years had piled on his shoulders and physically weighed him down until he couldn't take any more. Severide wouldn't blame him if he had given up. God knows he knew he would in the same place. It didn't make Matt's falling apart any easier to watch, especially knowing he couldn't do much to help. He watched Matt drive off towards Lakeshore and hoped pathetically that Matt wasn't headed towards more bad news.

 

Casey pulled into the visitor lot at Lakeshore and put his truck in park. Part of him kept wishing he would wake up and this entire day would turn out to be another one of his nightmares. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He was still sitting in his truck at Lakeshore, in the middle of one of the dreariest winter days Chicago could have whipped up. His head was still pounding, and he couldn't even force himself to open his truck's door and start walking. Casey dug his fingers into eyes that still felt gritty with smoke.

"So, that was pretty bad back there, huh? You're at the hospital though, so that's good." Andy was sitting in the passenger seat, still wearing the turnout pants and suspenders from earlier. He had lost the coat and helmet. "I was hoping you weren't going to have to join me back there. If it wasn't for Severide…"

"Damn it, Andy. If it wasn't for you, all this shit wouldn't have even happened. Back at the fire, I mean. The apartment fire, just now." Casey back pedaled furiously. He didn't mean that "all this shit", as in actually all this shit was Andy's fault, just the incident back at the abandoned apartment. Or maybe he did mean it, he didn't know.

"If it wasn't for your head, you wouldn't even be talking to me now! What about that? You're so screwed up, Casey. You don't know what's real anymore. Face it, that's why you're at the hospital in the first place." Casey couldn't argue with that.

"I have no idea what's going to happen, Andy. Firefighting, that's the one thing that's been a constant in my life. No matter how much everything else in my life goes to shit, that's always been that one thing that makes me get out of bed in the morning. I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't fight fires anymore." Casey stopped to catch his breath. "Gabby doesn't know about any of this. She's been worried about me, but she has no idea what has really been going on with me. I wouldn't blame her if she wanted to get the hell out now."

Andy's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you go there already when you don't even know how she's going to react? She really cares about you, man. I could tell. She's not going to run. Well, not unless you chase her off." He ran his fingers through his floppy hair. "Look, we can finish this later. You're just stalling now. Get in the hospital and do what you need to do. I'll be….around." With a lopsided grin, Andy playfully punched Matt in the shoulder, then disappeared.

Matt exhaled sharply. The sooner this hospital visit could be over, the better. Andy was right, he was just stalling. He pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror. He felt like his own face looked at least ten years older every time he looked in the mirror. God, he looked terrible. He stared back into his own eyes and wondered if he looked that miserable to everyone else. He hadn't bothered to clean up after the fire, and his face was still smudged and blackened in patches with soot. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to gather enough strength to do what he had to do. Here goes nothing.

 

The CT scan and EEG had gone by quickly, and Matt had waited for what seemed like hours for the doctor to return to the exam room. He had flipped through each one of the out of date magazines and thought he would try to take a nap. Like that would actually happen. He lay back on the exam table and stretched his legs out. He had just shut his eyes when he heard a voice directly over top of him.

"Boo!"

Casey's eyes flew open. Who else would it be, of course. His face was all strange angles and upside down laughing smiles, but it was unmistakably Andy. "Don't sit up too fast. You fell asleep for a minute. If you sit up too fast, you might pass out. You wouldn't want to scare those doctors and nurses out there." Andy went over to the sink and grabbed some paper towels, running them under the faucet, folding them into halves before handing them to Casey. "I saw your doctor coming down the hallway. He's probably grabbing your file or something. Wipe that stuff off your face and just take it easy. You can go home soon." Andy sat down on the exam table as Casey wiped away soot and grime from his face. "Just because you don't see me, doesn't mean I'm not here, Matt." Casey turned to Andy just as the doorknob twisted and his dead best friend disappeared once again. The doctor had returned.

"Lieutenant Casey. We have your test results back."

As soon as he had seen the somber look on the doctor's face, he had completely blocked out any of the words coming from the doctor's mouth. He heard snippets: "manageable", "cognitive functioning", "monitoring", "therapeutic goals". He had barely listened to a thing the doctor said when he blurted out, "How soon can I return to work?"

"Lieutenant Casey, now you simply cannot stay on the job as a firefighter. At the moment, your injuries are severe and unpredictable. You've experienced some memory loss, agitation, and lessened inhibition. You said you were also experiencing 'gaps in time'? What you described is life threatening if these symptoms occur on the job. For now, I'm going to say 6 months to a year before we can even realistically think about you returning to firefighting, if at all." A thick lump had formed in Casey's throat. Swallowing, he nodded as he rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "If at all? Are you saying that it's possible I might not ever go back to work?"

The doctor slipped a paperclip over the test results he had held. "Of course not. You can go back to work for the CFD, but not as a firefighter. At least right now. Look. You're getting ahead of yourself. Let's not jump to the worst conclusion first thing. I'm going to write you some prescriptions. We'll try these out for a while and see how you're doing on them, I can always adjust them if you need. Give me a call on my cell if you notice any really serious side effects and we can try something different." He ripped a sheet off a pad and handed it to Casey.

"What are all these prescriptions for, anyway?" Casey stared at the long list of even longer drug names.  
"A little of everything. There's Citalopram, which is an antidepressant. Propranolol is a beta blocker to help with aggression and irritability, and this one is called Olanzapine. It's an antipsychotic that will hopefully help with your auditory and visual hallucinations. I know it seems like that's a lot, but trust me, it's better if you get started with these as quickly as possible." He looked down at Casey's chart once again. "Your chart says you don't have any known allergies. I would also say not to take alcohol with these medications. Did you have any questions for me?"

Casey swallowed thickly. The thought of merely swallowing a pill and having Andy disappear felt like a betrayal. "Yeah, uh, you think I won't see things anymore if I take the antipsychotic?" 

"I'm hopeful that it will be effective. Just try out the medications for a month and then we'll discuss how they're working for you. There are a lot of other options if some of these meds don't work for you." The doctor handed Casey an appointment card. "Go ahead and get those filled and go home and read the information on the medications. Call me if you have any questions."

 

A dejected Casey exited the hospital with a bag full of several prescriptions and a stack of stapled papers with his test results and information. The cold air stung his face and fingers. He had forgotten his gloves in his truck. Now, if he could only find his truck. He knew he was exiting the hospital in the same place he entered. 

"Hey, Casey! Over here, asshole!" Andy was standing in the bed of his truck, several rows of parked cars away, waving his hands. "You parked over here. You forgot, didn't you?" He was laughing. Casey's lips pulled away from his teeth in a reluctant smile. "I would have had to walk home if it wasn't for you, Darden. I probably would have forgotten I even drove a truck here to the hospital."

"You're welcome. Whatcha got in the bag there, Santa? Is it Christmas already?"

"Very funny. Just about five hundred different prescriptions for my messed up noggin." He had reached his truck and pulled out his keys. "I gotta go home and talk to Gabby. Come on in the truck, you can give me one of your famous pep talks on the way."

He pulled out his phone to check the time as he was putting the key in the ignition. A missed call from Severide. He would call him later.

"You seem pretty upbeat for a guy who basically just got told he would have to retire from his true calling. I think that's shock. You're probably going to go home to Gabby and lose it. That's okay. You'll feel better afterwards. I'll try to hang around, you know, if you need me."

"That's you trying to make me feel better?"

Andy smiled and turned on the radio. "Always. See ya later, Casey. If you forget where you live you know where I am."

Continued in Chapter 7


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 7

"Tell me it's not giving up, Kelly." Matt's eyes pleaded with Severide. Severide's heart twisted in his chest; it was odd hearing his first name spoken aloud. Honestly, he had no idea what to say to Casey. Taking a desk job downtown for CFD was obviously not giving up, but Casey clearly didn't think so; Severide didn't know if anything he said would make Casey believe otherwise. He suddenly needed another cigarette. "Look, Matt. You're doing anything but giving up. You're one of the strongest people I know. Look at all the shit you've been through. Lots of people wouldn't even get out of bed in the morning if they were in your place." Severide gave in and lit up another smoke. "Transferring downtown isn't giving up. Maybe you're just what the CFD needs, someone to light a fire under the asses downtown and actually get shit done."

Casey pressed his lips together and took a shuddering breath. "It's just hard, you know. It's hard to think about going from working on Truck to working at a desk. Everyone's telling me it could just be temporary, but there's always the chance that I'll never recover to the point that I can go back to working on Truck." He reached for his cup of coffee and downed the remains, grimacing at the cold liquid.

"You talked to Gabby, right? What did she say?" Severide's question made Casey flinch as he flashed back to yesterday, after he had gotten home from the hospital. Gabby was already home from probie academy when he returned to the house hours before he should have. She had sprawled out on the couch, trying to take a much-needed nap when Casey quietly came through the door.

Got to remember how light of a sleeper Gabby is. 

She was up immediately, rushing towards him, asking him what was wrong, and why he was home so early. "Why aren't you at the station, Matt? Did something happen?"

So this was how Matt was going to have to discuss everything with Gabby, not a single aspect of it in his control. No, babe, nothing's wrong, I just transferred out of 51 because I'm seeing dead people and blacking out. No worries. "I blacked out at work today on a run. Boden made me go to the hospital. It turns out I'm not as back to normal as I thought I was."

Gabby had led him to the couch, stroking his back and speaking soothingly, "What's in the bag, prescriptions? What else did your doctor say?"

Casey had taken a deep breath. "Well, because of my brain injury I have these blackouts, and I sometimes see things that aren't there. Like the other day when I got us kicked out of that wine and tapas place. That was because of my injury. I can't work on Truck for the time being, since I'm basically a liability the way I am now." He swallowed hard around the thick lump in his throat. "Boden hooked me up with some people downtown; I'm transferring to CFD headquarters for now. They said the job switch doesn't have to be permanent, but it just as well might be. I don't know what to think, Gabby."

Gabby nodded her head, thinking. "I'm glad you're not hurt even worse. It's just, I don't know. How long have you known that you weren't okay? I've been worried about you for weeks, but you always insisted you were fine. It's pretty obvious now you aren't fine, and I just have a hard time believing that you were completely unaware of how bad it is." She grabbed Matt's hand. "Listen, I really care about you. We took a really big step moving in together. I've always been honest with you. It hurts me to think you're not being honest with me. Why even bother trying to make this work if we're not honest with each other?"

Matt couldn't look Gabby in the eyes. His voice shook. "It's not like that, babe, I promise. I wasn't even being honest with myself." He pressed his fingertips into his forehead. "The last thing I want is to drive you away because of my problem. I'm trying to work through it. Please believe me." He turned red, pleading eyes on Gabby. He was scared out of his mind.

"I understand, Matt. I'm just worried that you didn't take us seriously enough to tell me the truth about what was going on with you." Gabby squeezed Matt's hand. He pulled his hand away.

"What do you mean; I didn't take us seriously enough?"

"I mean that you obviously didn't trust me enough to let me in completely. That's a problem, Matt."

"That's bullshit. It has nothing to do with trust or honesty. I've been really confused these past few months, babe. You know I've seen, hell, I've been talking to Andy lately? How's that for confused?"

"Wait, what did you say? Andy? Andy Darden? You've been hallucinating?"

"A little. My doctor knows about it. These drugs'll help with that."

"You didn't think that hallucinating was serious enough to talk to someone about? That would have been a red flag for me."

The conversation had deteriorated past the point of saving. Casey was miserable. His head was throbbing, and his vision had begun to blur. "I can't change anything or make you believe me. I love you, Hallie, and…."

Shit. Did I just say that? That did not just happen. 

The look on Gabby's face tore Casey's heart in two. He couldn't believe that he had let that slip. Even though Hallie wasn't really an ex, calling your girlfriend your dead fiancée's name wasn't a good thing. It wouldn't earn him any extra points, at the very least. "Okay, Matt. I see. I don't think we're going to get anywhere talking." She got up and grabbed her puffy jacket from the chair, plucking her keys from the table.

"Please don't go, babe. I can't be alone tonight. We can talk this out."

"I know we can talk this out. I'm just…..I need to get out of the house tonight. It's me, Matt. I'm upset, and I don't want that to make things worse. I…I'm sorry."

Just like that, she was gone; Casey was all alone. He stared at his phone through tired eyes, trying to make himself dial a number and talk to someone. He just couldn't make himself do it. He couldn't believe how he had reacted, to Gabby of all people. He didn't want to alienate anyone else. He thought about calling Severide, just to hear another familiar voice, but he remembered that he would still be on shift. He didn't know if Kelly would even be able to answer his call. Casey's chest ached.

"I'm sorry, Matt. She'll be back. I promise. Heather and I had fights all the time, worse than that. She'll be back, don't worry." Andy had made himself comfortable on the couch next to Casey; well, as comfortable as a dead guy could be.

"I called her Hallie, Andy. Hallie." Casey kicked the coffee table. "What's wrong with me?"

Andy pursed his lips. "Well, you experienced blunt force trauma to your hard head, which unfortunately wasn't hard enough." He ruffled Casey's short hair.

"I know that. I mean, I just pissed Gabby off so much she doesn't even want to be in the same house with me tonight. That's what I mean, what's wrong with me?"

"Like I said, you had your first fight. You'll work through it. If you can't, then you guys were screwed to begin with." Andy held up his hands. "Sorry, I'm just being honest. But I really do think you guys are better than that. She's just scared. She probably needs some time to process everything. Cut her some slack. Cut yourself some, too." Andy pointed at the untouched bag of prescriptions on the table. "Did you even read your info sheets that came with your pills, or take your first doses yet?" Casey shook his head. "We can read them together, and figure out what the best way is for you to start taking these, okay? Then maybe you should go get some sleep. Things will make more sense in the morning."

Yeah right.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severide felt worse for Casey the longer he listened to him talk. He was hurting, that was for sure. Part of Severide couldn't believe Gabby had run out last night, and the other part of him completely understood. He had no idea how he would react in that situation. "So, you're saying that Andy helped you take your medicine?" He couldn't help the small smile that crept over his face. Severide didn't think that seeing Andy meant Casey was crazy. If he was honest with himself, he would love to be able to see Andy again, even if it wasn't real. He took a final drag on his cigarette, the nicotine satiating him for the time being.

"Kinda. I guess. After that I had to call CFD headquarters to make sure they had gotten my latest records. Lakeshore faxed them for me so I didn't have to worry about it. Boden has a buddy who was all ready for me. I talked to him on the phone; Chief O'Reilly. Someone in his department just retired, and I'm taking his place. I don't even know what I'll be doing. Just…something in an office, somewhere." Casey's eyes were achingly red, staring down the quiet street. "Gabby hasn't come home yet. I don't blame her, really."

"I'll stay until she gets here. I can even hang out while she's here, too, if you want. I mean, I won't bug you guys while you talk or anything. Just….you know, if you need anything." Severide pointed at the bag of bagels. "Maybe we could go inside and eat these? It's warmer than it's been lately, but it's not exactly patio weather, man."

A ghost of a smile passed Casey's lips. "Okay. I need to take my pills anyway. I sound like an old man, huh?"

"Sure, pops." Casey laughed at Severide's name calling, a genuine smile appearing this time.

"You know, Kelly, I really….thanks for coming over this morning. You don't know how much you helped me just by showing up over here."

"It's nothing. Seriously, man? I'm just glad you're not in the hospital or crushed underneath a burning pile of rubble. We're good." Severide clapped Casey on the back and offered a smile. "Let's get some coffee inside and we can talk some more, if you want."

The two stood up to go inside, but Casey stood up a little too quickly. His vision swam, and a white-hot rush of pain shot through his head. He felt his legs buckle just as Severide's strong arms grabbed his torso, breaking his fall. He heard Severide's voice through a haze, "Hey, don't check out on me, huh? You okay?"

All of Casey's five senses were confused. He shook his head. "I'm fine. I just got up too quickly." Severide threw Casey's arm around his neck and linked his own arm around Casey's midsection, helping him through the door. "Don't pass out on me, okay?" 

Damn it, Casey. I can't lose you, too.

Continued in Chapter 8


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 8

Gabby had just slammed the door behind her, eyes blurry with hot tears, when she stopped and turned back around. What am I doing? The last thing he needs is for me to leave him by himself. She had reached for the doorknob to go back inside when she stopped again. She was so upset. She was angry, but she didn't even know why she was angry, or whom she was angry with.

Was she angry because Matt had been lying to her for weeks now? The more she thought about it, the more she thought he hadn't really been lying, not really. He had been so eager to get back to work after all that time off. He could have been lying to himself without truly realizing it. Would that make it lying to her, then, as well? It was complicated.

Was she angry because of what his injury had done to him? Maybe. She hated to admit it to herself, but after Matt's injury, he hadn't been the same. It was mostly little things, things he didn't remember about her, or small habits he had that had disappeared. Gabby knew it wasn't his fault. She felt horrible for even thinking about it. Mostly she was scared to death for him. He was finally admitting that he was blacking out randomly, and it was happening on the job. Maybe she was also angry at him for repeatedly putting himself and the rest of the station in harm's way.

Was she angry because they had so little time together before the accident? She came so close to losing him, sometimes it felt like she had already lost him. She couldn't be angry with the Chief, or the doctors; they were the ones who had pushed Casey to admit to himself how serious his problem had become. Maybe she was angry with herself, most of all, for not being strong enough. "That was the stupidest thing I've ever fought with anyone about. I'm a paramedic, and I want to be a firefighter. I'm supposed to be able to deal with high stress situations with grace and strength. This is one time that Matt needs me to be understanding, and just fucking be there. And I'm running in the other direction." Now she was talking to herself, perfect. 

Maybe she was right the first time. She should take some time to go cool off. She wasn't going to help the situation if she went back inside angry and upset. She would say things she didn't mean, she just knew it. She turned around again and made it down the steps this time. She thought about calling Shay, then remembered she was on shift at the firehouse. Gabby mentally ran through a list of people she could call when her phone rang. It was Antonio.

Gabby made inside her car and shut the door before she answered, sobbing out a greeting. It probably didn't even sound like words.

"Sis, you okay? Erin told me to call you as soon as I could. She just got off the phone with Severide. She said that Matt had some kind of accident. Is everything okay?"

"Not really, Antonio. Are you at the precinct? Can I come over? I need to talk to someone."

"Sure. I got time. Are you driving?"

"Not yet. I….I had a fight with Matt. It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense to me."

"Just drive safe. We can talk about it when you get here. Love ya, sis."

"Love you too, Antonio."

Gabby ended the call, and took a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition. The car sputtered to life and she took off roaring down the street, headed for Antonio's precinct.

 

Gabby's tires squeaked as she pulled into a parking spot. The sun had begun to set, and she had to squint against the harsh reflections of the sun in the precinct windows. She checked her phone. No missed calls, no messages. Not anything surprising. She took the steps two at a time into the building. Antonio was right inside the door.

"Sis, I was watching for you from upstairs. You got here pretty fast. What's wrong?" Antonio led her into an empty side room and pulled out a chair for Gabby.

"Matt had to go to the hospital in the middle of his shift today. He had a blackout at a fire. He's having these lingering effects from his injury, and now he's transferring downtown to CFD headquarters. He's being taken off truck, but he doesn't know if it is permanent yet."

"That's not all that happened, though, is it?"

Gabby sucked in a deep breath. "We had a fight. I don't even know how it happened. It was so stupid. It was a huge misunderstanding. I said I thought he had been dishonest with me about the extent of his injuries, and it went downhill from there. He was pretty upset, and he called me Hallie. I know he was confused, and it was probably even a result of his injury. At the time I guess I thought that proved my point pretty well. I left because I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't want to say something I didn't mean and really hurt him."

"It might have been a good thing then that you left the house. You can go back and talk later when you're not so pissed off."  
"That's the thing, Antonio. All I wanted to do when he came through the door and told me what happened was give him a back rub and cook for him. I wanted to try to do anything I could do to make him feel better. Instead I went and started a huge fight and ran out on him."

Antonio looked up when a knock on the door interrupted them. "Hold on. That's probably Erin. She said she'd bring you some coffee." He crossed his arms. "It's open!"

Erin peeked around the door, holding a huge cup of coffee and an empty cup full of creamers and sugars. "Hey, Gabby. This is for you." She held out the coffee and creamers to her. "How's Matt doing?" Erin's question was so genuine and her eyes so sincere that Gabby burst into tears. "He's pretty bad actually. He's transferring out of Firehouse 51. You know what he told me? He said he's been hallucinating, and that he's been talking to Andy Darden. Talking to him like I'm sitting here talking to you. Andy's been dead for almost two years now." She took a sip of the scalding coffee. "I asked him why he didn't want to talk to me about his injury, except it came out all wrong."

Erin rubbed Gabby's back soothingly. "You just have to try again, and harder this time. That's all you can do. Help him fight this." Antonio walked back from the other side of the room with a box of tissues for Gabby. "Here, sis. I don't know if you are headed back to the house or not, but I talked to Laura earlier. She said she'd love it if you could come over. She said you could bring Matt too, if he wanted to come."

Gabby stared at her phone. She wanted to call Matt. Part of her screamed out to do it, the other part of her said he's probably already asleep on the couch. She didn't want to wake him up on top of everything else. "I'd really like to go see Laura and the kids, Antonio. If she's sure it's okay."

"It's okay. I won't be getting home until late tonight, we're working overtime on a case. Trust me, they'd all love it if you came over."

The thought of a night spent with her niece and nephew and sister-in-law was a comforting one. She felt horribly guilty at the thought of leaving Matt alone at home. She hoped that he had simply gone to sleep, and not stayed up consumed with anxiety. Gabby hated that she couldn't bring herself to go back home and stay with Matt. She just couldn't; she would have to add that to the list of things she would have to ask his forgiveness for tomorrow.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nine in the evening had to be the earliest Matt had gone to bed in ages. The bed felt gigantic and cold without Gabby. He had taken the first of his prescriptions and decided the best thing was to take a hot shower and just go to bed. He could start to make sense of this in the morning. He turned over on his side. It was impossible to get comfortable.

"You thought she'd be back by now, right?" Andy was sitting on the dresser, wearing a CFD fleece and bunker pants. "You look cold. Want my sweatshirt?" Casey sat up halfway, switching on the bedside lamp. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Yeah to which question?" Andy paused halfway through taking off his fleece, one arm in and one arm out. Casey rubbed his eyes with his hand. "Yeah to both questions, I guess. It's weird not having her here like this, especially since her being gone isn't because of her shift schedule."

Andy tossed his fleece hoodie across the room at Casey. He hopped down off the dresser and sat on the end of the bed. "I know she'll be back though. I think you really threw her for a loop."  
Casey pulled the soft fleece over his head. "I tend to do that. With Hallie, we were just on such different paths, Andy. I didn't think we could make it work. We were just too different. Just when things started to get better, look what happened. Now things with Gabby and I are better than I could ever have expected, and now all this." He switched off the lamp again, he didn't want to talk about this with the lights on. "As tired as I am, I can't even go to sleep because I can't stop thinking about her."

Andy motioned towards the television on top of the dresser. "Wanna fall asleep watching tv? I heard the final episodes of Breaking Bad are streaming now." Casey laughed. Andy handed him the remote. "I'm serious! Watching tv always made me fall asleep. Besides, I never got to find out what happened to Walt and Jesse. The last thing I saw was Hank reading Leaves of Grass. Then, you know, I died, so I never got to finish it." Andy punched Casey playfully in the shoulder. "Okay then. You can sleep while I watch it. It's a win-win."

Casey flipped through the selections on the screen with the remote. He had thought about giving Severide a call, but now he thought he would wait until morning. Andy wasn't going to leave him alone. Maybe that was a good thing. The screen already looked blurry to him. He heard Andy's commentary as he faded slowly to a dreamless sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or its characters. 
> 
> I know I'm getting this edited version of Unglued up a lot later than I expected. I should have it up and complete tonight, with hopefully an update on One Shot soon. My computer crashed completely and I had to do a hard reset with a restore to factory settings(ugh) but luckily I had a hard copy backup of my other story and what wasn't backed up was only about 500 words(or so) so that's why One Shot will be delayed a hot minute, but expect an update soon. 
> 
> Just another disclaimer, this isn't really a Dawsey story, I wrote it at a time when Dawsey was canon. I don't know if you can tell by how I wrote things in the fic but I'm not a Dawsey shipper. I'm not violently against it, but I'm also not violently in favor of it. Basically I thought the relationship was doomed from the beginning and that was what I had in mind when I wrote this story. (This story is five years old too)

Chapter 9

"Don't pass out on me, okay?" Damn it, Casey. I can't lose you, too. 

Casey slumped into a chair at his dining room table while Severide rummaged around in the kitchen, toasting the bagels. He poured some coffee for himself and a glass of orange juice for Casey. He didn't know what he had expected when he showed up at his and Gabby's apartment that morning, but he definitely did not expect to find Casey all by himself. He had pushed aside his anger at Gabby's leaving Casey all alone, now he had started to think about it again while he tried to make breakfast.

Severide shook his head angrily. He wished Gabby was there now, he had a hell of a lot to say to her, none of it too friendly. He couldn't worry about that now, though. Casey was still sitting at the table on the other side of the wall. Severide didn't want his anger at Gabby to rub off on him; if by some outlandish chance Casey wasn't already angry with Gabby.

"Here. Eat this, the cream cheese has bacon in it." Severide set the plate with the toasted bagel down in front of Casey. Casey eyed it questioningly before laughing, "Bacon, huh? I'm sold. I guess I'm a little hungry. I haven't eaten since, well, I guess yesterday at lunch." It was things like that came out of Casey's mouth that worried Severide about his friend.

"Seriously, Otis's lasagna? That was the last thing you ate?"

"I was surprised it was even edible. You remember the stuff that Otis tried to pass off as lunch before."

"Remember that one time, I don't remember what he tried to make, but everyone called it 'Russian Revolution'."

"Yeah, because it revolted in everyone's stomachs."

Casey's laugh and smile at the memory made Severide sick for the old days. It was so strange, those 'old days' weren't even two years ago. They might as well have been a thousand years ago; they were over, and they weren't ever coming back. Casey must have thought the same thing as Severide; the smile faded quickly from his eyes. The tone of the conversation was quickly headed downhill.

"So, Matt, if you don't care if I ask you, I thought you said something about going on disability. How is that going to work if you are working at HQ?"

Casey swallowed. "Well, I don't actually start at headquarters for a month. There's some kind of red tape that I can't cut through, I don't know. I've already been put on medical leave from Station 51, so for the next two pay cycles I'll be on disability. Just until I start work downtown. Then I go back to a normal pay rate."

It probably doesn't matter if he's working at headquarters or not, it'll probably feel like being on disability. I'm going to have to keep an eye on Matt like Boden asked me, Severide thought.

"What are you going to do in the meantime, then? A month's a long time." Severide crossed his arms in front of him and looked Casey in the face.

"I don't know. I'll figure it out, I guess." Casey sounded deflated, as if thinking about getting through an entire month without working took the life out of him.

"If you ever need anything, I mean anything, you can always call me. You know that, right?" Casey nodded at Severide's words, but couldn't look him in the face. "I know, Kelly."

Severide wanted to ask Casey more about the hallucinations he said he was having. He knew that Casey said he was seeing and talking to Andy. He wanted to ask him more about that, but he didn't know how to do it without making it seem like he thought Casey was crazy. Maybe he could ask him about it another time. Besides, now, Casey looked like he was done talking about everything. He needed a break, goddammit did he need a break.

Suddenly, the sound of a key twisting in a lock sounded from the front door. Gabby was back. Severide jumped up out of his chair. Casey started to get up as well, but Severide motioned Casey to get back down. "Stay here. I want to talk to Gabby before she comes in."

Casey slumped back down in his chair. He wasn't even going to try to argue with Severide. He sensed a big brother-ish quality to Severide's actions that morning; he figured that he was going to continue that trend. Besides, Severide had already left the room.

Severide was standing on the other side of the front door when Gabby walked through. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of him. To say he looked pissed would be an understatement. "Gabby, what the fuck were you thinking?"

She dropped her keys and wallet on the table next to the door, averting his angry gaze. "You didn't waste any time, Kelly."

"You're goddamn right. How could you leave Matt by himself all night? You could have at least called someone to come over and stay with him if you didn't want to do it yourself."

"You're making it sound like I'm a selfish bitch…"

"You said it, not me."

Severide pointed towards the dining room, painfully aware that Casey could hear every bit of their conversation. He was surprised Casey hadn't followed him to the door to try to stop him from giving Gabby hell. He was angry for his friend, and he wasn't going to be silenced.  
"Do you have any idea how much he's hurting now? I don't care what kind of bullshit fight you had, that's just what it is, bullshit. If you really care about him, go tell how sorry you were for running off on him and work through whatever it was that happened." Severide suddenly calmed, and he exhaled shakily. "Dawson, I'm just worried about him. I just need to know you're not going to make things more difficult for him. He's got a really tough road ahead. If you can't be there for him, he needs to know now."

I need to know now, Kelly thought.

"Kelly. I…..I know it was fucked up. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't sleep at all last night, I was so worried. I went to Antonio and talked to him. He said I should come back and get Matt and come over to his and Laura's house. I couldn't do it. I went over there by myself and fell asleep on the couch. I know what I did was wrong. I wouldn't blame Matt if he hated me for it."

If you were so worried about him, why did you abandon him when he was going through hell, Severide wanted to scream. Instead, he put on a calm façade and pointed down the hallway towards the dining room. "Just go to him. Tell him what you told me, and take care of it. Just do it." Gabby nodded, too guilty to look him in the face. She walked towards the dining room slowly.

Severide slumped against the wall again. He felt guilty too, for some reason. He tried to assuage himself by telling himself that everything he said to Gabby was true. He wasn't sorry for anything he said to her. Maybe he felt guilty because he was almost certain that Casey heard every word he had said to Gabby, and vice versa.

Telling it to Gabby like it is isn't a reason to feel guilty. She's the one who should feel guilty. 

It didn't make Severide feel any better about anything, though. He was so angry, he was almost shaking. He fumbled in his pocket for the cigarettes he had bought earlier that morning. He slammed the door behind him as he went back out on the front porch to wait for Gabby and Casey to get everything out in the open, whatever that meant. He wasn't leaving now though, that was for sure. He had all day, hell, he had tomorrow too.

Casey looked everywhere in the room except at Gabby, who had stopped in the doorway to the dining room. He couldn't look at her. All he could think about was how his injury had got him twisted so badly that he called Gabby Hallie. He felt like he had shut Gabby out, and her leaving him last night was just another failure on a long list of failures. Casey hadn't forgotten the anger and the sadness he had felt when Gabby left last night, however. She had come back, though, and Casey had no idea what to say to her now she had returned.

"Matt. I don't….I can't…just please forgive me?" Gabby rushed to Matt and slipped her arms around his tense shoulders. "I can't explain what I did last night. I was upset, and I…." She stopped and cleared her throat, her voice giving out on her. "I let you down when I should have been here for you. I know you're hurting." She cupped his cheek in her hand. Casey closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "I know that the head trauma is what's to blame, not you. I'm so sorry. I love you, Matt. I don't know what we're doing here, but I want to at least give it a chance. Whatever you need, just be honest with me, and I promise I won't freak out and run off. But just tell me. Is that fair?"

Matt's lips formed a sad smile. "I forgive you, of course I do. Just please, if we're trying to make this work, never run out on me again like that. I would have rather you stayed last night and finished what we'd started. I don't want to lose you." Casey thought about all the people who had disappeared from his life in the past few years: moved away or passed away. He had so few people left. He desperately needed Gabby to be one of those people.

"Did you hear Kelly and I out there?" Gabby pointed towards the front door. She knew he had to have heard; Kelly's voice was loud and carried under even normal circumstances.

"No." Casey lied. "Well, yeah, sorta. I couldn't really understand everything you were saying." He could damn well guess.

"He's pretty mad at me. He's right, though."

"Where'd he go? He didn't leave, did he?"

"No. He's out front, smoking like an angry chimney."

"I'll go out and get him." Casey stood up, slowly this time. He didn't want to pass out in front of Gabby. "Wait here. I'll be back in a minute."

Severide was puffing away when Casey opened the door. A plume of blue smoke swirled around his head. "You know you'll have to quit that someday."

Severide laughed. "I run into burning buildings for a living. Eating smoke comes with the territory."

"If you wanna come in now, you can. Gabby and I had a talk. I think it's going to be okay."

"Good to know." Severide stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm off today, tomorrow too, if you need anything. Anything at all."

"Do you want to come back in? I don't know, we could play video games or something. Watch tv."

Severide's face lit up. "Yeah, actually. That sounds good, man."

"If I black out during Call of Duty, no one gets hurt, at least."

That wiped the smile right off Severide's face. This new reality of Casey's was going to take some getting used to, and it wasn't going to be easy.

Continued in Chapter 10


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 10

Almost two entire weeks had gone by since Casey had been put on medical leave from Station 51. At the beginning, he thought he was going to be miserable during the month long wait before he could start back to work for the Chicago Fire Department. The truth was, right now anyway, he was just bored. Gabby had tried to come up with things to do to keep his mind off the wait. Her attempts had come off as awkward, but Casey knew she meant well. One day, she came home with a bag of seed packets and little seed starter pots. "You could start herb and spice seedlings inside! By the time spring gets here, you can just drop these right into the ground, and you've already done the hard part." He had laughed at her then, but several days later he found himself with a case of cabin fever; even pushing seeds into small pots of dirt sounded interesting. If nothing else, it was something to break the afternoon up.

There was now an entire garden in tiny pots on his kitchen window ledge and on top of the refrigerator. Andy got a real kick out of that. "It's a good thing you don't have kids running around here, man, those would all be emptied out on the floor by now." Casey had thought a lot about Ben and Griffin. He missed them so much. He hadn't heard from Heather since that day she drove away with the boys. He ignored how much the silence from her stung. Heather had said she would get in contact with him when all three of them got settled in wherever it was they were going in Florida. She had been a little vague with the details; and Casey didn't press the matter.

Casey had also finally gotten used to taking his medication, mainly after he had gotten one of those plastic snap-top day of the week pill dispensers. Gabby had picked one up for him. He initially had refused to use it, on the grounds that he was too young for an elderly folks' pill box. Casey hated to admit how helpful it actually ended up being. He hadn't really noticed any side effects from his medications, either, although he hadn't been taking them long enough to say for sure.

Today, Casey wandered through a cluttered old bookstore downtown, not sure if he even wanted to buy any books. He was supposed to meet Severide for a burger, and then go visit the cemetery where Andy was buried. Severide had been very protective of him ever since he had gone on medical leave. Casey figured that underneath the protective big brother veneer, Severide was scared shitless.

Casey was browsing in a particularly cramped section when he felt something brush against his back. Andy was standing behind him, running his fingers across the titles on an eye-level shelf. He tossed back the hair that was constantly falling in his eyes and offered a goofy grin. "You look lost."

"Maybe a little; I don't even know what I want. I thought I'd get really ambitious and read some books instead of watch tv and play video games. Shows you how much I know, huh?" Casey held up a small stack of books he had been carrying around. He had a collection of Philip K. Dick short stories, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and a Jeeves and Wooster omnibus. Andy laughed. "At least you won't rot your brain while you're trying to get better."

"Gabby said I should try to get out today. I'm supposed to meet up with Severide later, he has some a friend who bartends at a pub down the street. We're going to eat then, uh…" Casey trailed off. "We're going to go visit you at the cemetery afterwards."

"Well, it's good to know you bastards haven't forgotten me, anyway."

"Pretty sure that's impossible, Andy."

"Don't put any flowers on my grave or any depressing shit like that, huh?" Casey gave Andy a sad smile. "Nah, mostly we'll probably just swap stories about how much of a pain in the ass you always were." Casey's phone beeped. It was a text from Severide, he was five minutes away.

Casey motioned at his phone. "That's him right now." Andy had already gone, wherever it was he went. Casey exhaled heavily and headed towards the maze of aisles and bookshelves to the front of the store to pay for his books.

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Several streets over, Severide parked his car and checked his phone. Casey hadn't texted him back, although Casey never had been one for texting. He was probably just running late; there was probably nothing wrong. Severide had been keeping a close eye on Casey lately. Boden had pulled him aside one day and asked him to make sure to keep tabs on Casey. Neither of them had to mention Vargas. When he was discharged from Truck, no one could have predicted his erratic and ultimately dangerous behavior. If Casey and Severide hadn't been looking out for him, he might have been successful at taking his own life. A shudder passed through Severide. He didn't think Casey would do something like that, but then he didn't think that about Vargas, either. Casey had always just been so level-headed and logical. Even through all the bullshit, he never once lost it. If he did, he did a world class job of hiding it away. A knock at his window startled him. It was Casey. He had a paper bag in his hand and a grin on his face. He looked upbeat, which assuaged a tiny bit of Severide's worry.

"Hey. Can I put this in your car? I took the L today so I can't put them in my truck." Severide reached over and unlocked the passenger side door. "Sure you can. What's in the bag?"

"Just a couple of books, I got bored and wanted something different to do." Severide nodded. "I saw your mini garden in your kitchen the other day. Was that out of boredom?"

"Yeah, pretty much. So where's this place we're going?" Severide noted how quickly Casey had changed the subject when he had brought up how he had been spending his time. Maybe he was just hungry. "Over there," Severide pointed across the lot. "McCarthy's Tavern. I got a buddy over at the Academy who bartends there a few times a week. One of the kitchen guys is CFD too. I came in a few times with them after work for a couple beers, it's a pretty cool place. Don't tell Hermann though." Casey laughed. "Do you want to go ahead and go in? I'm starving."

"Let's do it." They got out of Severide's car, trekking across a parking lot that had been minimally cleared of recent snow.

The inside of the tavern reminded Casey of Molly's, although there were more tables for dining, most of them full with the lunch rush. There was a jukebox and an old Pacman arcade game close to the entrance. A scruffy looking guy behind the bar threw the towel he was holding over his shoulder when he saw Severide and Casey come in the door. "Kelly! How're ya doin', man?"  
"I'm good, Steve, I'm good." Severide motioned with his head at Casey. "I brought a partner in crime, Lieutenant Matt Casey." Steve reached out and grabbed Casey's offered hand in a firm handshake. "Good to know you. You guys hungry, you like burgers? I'll get Frankie in the back to make you somethin' good." Severide and Casey both nodded to Steve's offer and sat at the bar.

"You want some beers while you wait, too?" Steve had grabbed some pint glasses and balanced them in his left hand. Severide nodded, but Casey held up his hands. "No thanks, unless you have some NA beer, as lame as that sounds."

"This one okay?" Steve pulled out a cold, green-bottle longneck from a fridge behind him and placed it on the bar.

"Yeah, actually, that looks good." As soon as Steve disappeared into the kitchen, Casey turned to Severide. "I haven't had a drink since I started all those new medications. I haven't even had a beer."

"That's probably a good idea." It sounded to Severide like Casey was doing everything in his power to stay healthy and recover. It was a good sign, although it did nothing to dim the big brother-like protectiveness he felt towards Casey. He wasn't letting his guard down. Just hanging out like this was good. It felt almost like old times, except Andy was missing from the barstools. Severide would never get used to that, the empty seat. He still missed that joker; he knew he probably would never stop missing him. Their burgers came, and he was thankful for something to take focus away from the deteriorating mood. He wished he had already visited Andy's headstone, although visiting him for the first time in this long would feel like ripping a bandaid off a wound.

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"It's been a while since I've been here. It seems different somehow. Maybe it's the snow." Severide shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, resisting the cold. Andy's headstone had been completely covered with snow; Casey brushed it away with his gloved hands. The carved letters and numbers on the stone were so….final and cold. Severide hated cemeteries; it wasn't because he was afraid of death or dying. He just hated being left behind. Severide couldn't imagine how Casey felt; it seemed like everyone in his life had left him at some point, whether they passed away or simply abandoned him.

"It still doesn't seem like he's gone." Especially since I see him practically every day.

Severide's chest ached. All of a sudden, it was as if the weight of everything they had gone through in the past few years was crushing him. "I think about Andy every day, still, Matt. That day, when he died, I had nightmares about that day for months. I don't care what kind of shit I tried to tell you. I blamed myself. I know now it wasn't anybody's fault, really. The only thing I knew was that my best friend died and I couldn't save him." He ground his teeth against his thinly veiled emotions; fighting back stinging tears.

Casey pressed his lips together, trying to gather his thoughts. "God, thinking about it now, it's like it didn't even happen. It feels like I'm remembering something from a movie. I was so angry with you, for the longest time. All the blame that you put on me, it hurt so much. I could have stopped Andy so easily, but I didn't. His death, it was such a waste." He tilted his head back and took a shuddering breath. I thought it should have been me. 

It had been so long since Severide and Casey had talked, actually talked about Andy and his death; their clearing the air now felt like slowly tearing a scab off of an angry wound. Even two years afterwards, neither of them had healed as much as they would have liked. Severide knew Casey had been seeing and talking to Andy, and that it had something to do with his brain injury. He wondered if he would be hallucinating Andy, even with the TBI, if he hadn't been right there watching when Andy disappeared into the flashover. "You don't still blame yourself, do you?" Severide's voice was quieter than usual.

"No. I don't blame myself anymore. I didn't think Andy would want us to blame each other or ourselves for his death. I eventually convinced myself that." Casey's cheeks were red from the cold. "You know how I told you I keep seeing Andy? That's the one good thing that's come out of my injury. I know it's not real, but I don't want it to go away. I hate myself for that; holding onto something that's not even there."

"Don't hate yourself, Matt. Who knows, maybe you're not hallucinating, and you crossed some line between worlds when you got injured; that's why you're seeing Andy." Severide was absolutely goddamn serious. Casey stared at Severide out of the corner of his eye, grinning in spite of himself. "I think you've watched too much SyFy with Otis."

"Come on. Let's go back and sit in the car. At least turn the heater on. I think our brains are starting to freeze out here, it's so cold." One last look at Andy's grave, and the pair made their way back to Severide's car where warmth awaited them. Casey sank into the front seat, glancing at the rear view mirror. Andy was in the backseat, watching. He was completely quiet, and held up a finger to his lips, as if to make sure Casey wouldn't tell Severide he was here.

Casey couldn't talk about Andy anymore, anyway.

Continued in Chapter 11


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or its characters.

Chapter 11

Casey stared at the crisply ironed and starched uniform shirts hanging in his closet. It had been a long time since he'd worn a white shirt and tie as a Lieutenant. That, in itself, would take some getting used to. He only had two more days left before he started work downtown. He felt like he would be on disability forever. The time just did not pass as quickly as he would have liked; he couldn't wait to go back to work. The loneliness had been unbearable. Gabby was still at the Academy during the weekdays, and she seemed tired and distant when she got home in the evenings. She had been around for him since that day Casey had finally come clean to her about the true extent of his injuries, but things between them hadn't really been the same. She seemed colder, somehow, and he wondered if she was planning her escape. Casey hoped he was just being paranoid.

Today was Casey's last trip to the doctor's office for another month. He needed to get re-evaluated to make sure that his medications were doing their job and that there were no new complications with his injury. Even though he had come clean to Severide and Gabby about the hallucinations weeks ago, he hadn't mentioned so far to his doctor the specific fact he was still talking to and seeing Andy.

He didn't plan on telling his doctor today, either.

Casey shut the closet door angrily and flopped on his back on the bed. He stared at the ceiling. It was still early, and Gabby hadn't left for the Academy yet. She had gotten up early and gone for a run. He couldn't drag himself awake this morning to join her; he felt a twinge of guilt at staying behind. He knew he should go out for a run; it might even make him feel better. A run just wasn't happening this morning. He closed his eyes.

"That uniform looks pretty depressing to you, huh?"

Casey turned to his right. Andy was lying next to him, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He screwed up his face. "I don't know. Maybe. It'll just take some getting used to, I think. Who knows, office work might really agree with me."

"Bullshit. You look terrified. Is it because of the new job, or is it the fact you have a trip to the doctor in two hours?"

Casey scowled. "Both." He scrubbed a hand through his short hair and over the rough stubble on his face. "I don't think Gabby and I are doing too great, either." He exhaled shakily.

Andy frowned. "What do you mean? I thought you guys were solid."

"I can't explain it. She barely ever looks me in the eyes anymore. I think she's exhausted from the training and everything, but still. I don't know what to think." Casey looked away from Andy. His eyes and face were as warm and gentle as ever; everything about Andy made Casey ache inside, homesick for a place he could never go back to again.

"I'm sorry, Matt. I wish I could do something for you. Kind of tied up, though, with the being dead thing." Andy offered a conciliatory smile tinged with sadness.

"It's okay. I just can't win for losing, you know? Just when I think something good is happening; everything gets yanked out from under me."

"Don't think that way. Don't let yourself get bitter. It doesn't look good on you, Matt." Andy's voice took on a somber tone. "Don't forget you're recovering from a traumatic brain injury. One centimeter to the left, one second too late, you could have been dead or in a coma."

"Thanks for the perspective, Andy. Always helpful." Casey felt a smile on his lips in spite of himself. He heard the sound of a door being unlocked and opened. "Gabs is back. I probably shouldn't let her hear me talking to you. I'm not ready to repeat that conversation."

Andy's face split in a grin. "By all means, kick your best dead friend out. Let the guilt begin. I'll see you later, asshole." Casey blinked and Andy disappeared. He sat up, and a powerful wave of dizziness overtook him. He gripped the quilt until it passed. Gabby hadn't come upstairs yet; at least she didn't see him almost pass out. It didn't seem like she was coming upstairs, anyway. Casey sighed. He could take a shower and get ready to leave for the hospital; he might not even see Gabby until she got home from the Academy later. More fairly depressing thoughts to start the day with.

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"Lieutenant Casey, did you realize you've lost weight since last month?" Casey's doctor flipped through papers from his file and drummed his fingers on his knee. "You've lost ten pounds, to be exact. Can you tell me about that? Are you eating regular meals?"

Casey paled. "I think so, usually, yes. A lot of the time I'm just not hungry. I guess I forget to eat sometimes." He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he had forgotten to eat so often that he had lost that much weight. He hadn't even noticed anything different, although now that he thought about it, his jeans had seemed looser in the past few weeks.

"How have you been with the medications? Have you experienced any side effects that you can recall?" Casey shook his head, "I can't remember. I don't think so. I've taken them every day, though." Doctor White flipped the file shut. "You're still experiencing some memory loss, then. How about anxiety? Any panic attacks, anything like that?"

Casey shook his head no. "No, nothing like that."

"Seizures?"

"None at all," Casey vehemently denied.

"Any dizziness or balance problems?"

Casey licked his lips warily. He tried to downplay his response, but he had always been a terrible liar. "A little. It comes and goes. It's not too bad, though."

"It's common for someone with a traumatic brain injury to experience vertigo. My concern is that it could potentially affect your return to work." Casey swallowed hard. "I go back to work in just a few days, I don't think that this should change anything." The doctor clasped his hands together. "No, Lieutenant Casey. I mean in the future, if you want to eventually return to firefighting. It's still too early to say, but I know last time you were in, we discussed how you would like to return to your firehouse and continue to work as Lieutenant on your Truck. Right now, that looks like an impossibility. Please understand that I'm not trying to impede your recovery by dumping bad news on you; I just want to be realistic with you. I don't want to give you false hope."

Casey had nothing to say, he just nodded his head, acknowledging but barely hearing the doctor's words. Everything else that the doctor said filtered through a haze of defeat.

"…get these filled. It's an adjusted prescription for your memory loss. I'm going to keep the other medications the same dosages, at least for now. As always, if you notice any abnormal side effects or have any questions later, give me a call."

Casey could hardly believe that after all that, the subject of hallucinating didn't even get brought up. He was both relieved and crushed, and wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. He thought he was going to throw up. It was now more real, the possibility of never returning to work at 51. Oppression and disappointment weighed heavy on him as he walked out of the hospital. He didn't know why he was so upset; he hadn't gone in today expecting good news. It didn't make the bad news any easier to take. So he had most of his hopes of returning to Truck crushed. Andy was right, as much as he hated to admit it; he was up and walking around, alive. Shouldn't that be enough?

Continued in Chapter 12


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago Fire or its characters. 
> 
> It is done! The updated Unglued is complete, with minor tweaks and adjustments here and there. The end of Unglued leads into the sequel(The Accident). I'll follow up with the sequel here on AO3, and I have a final chapter to the sequel(The Accident)that I will post here within the week as well.  
> Thanks for reading, fellow Chi-hards!

Chapter 12

CFD Headquarters

Two weeks in at HQ, and Casey had barely made a dent on the backlogged files stacked in bankers boxes in his cramped office. He thought he would be bored on the job, but the truth was that he didn't have time to get bored. There were too many damn papers to file. CFD incident reports passed through his office, and the last time someone processed and filed these reports was over three weeks ago. It would take Casey weeks, maybe even months to get caught up.

A soft knock on the door shocked Casey back into the present. It was Severide. "Hey. I'm not bugging you, am I? I'm off today, and I thought I'd bring you some coffee and a donut." He held up a bag and a gigantic to go cup of hot coffee. "I figured you could use a break."

Casey stacked some files on the edge of his desk. "That sounds great, actually. I'm about to take a break, anyway. Want to take a walk while I drink my coffee?"

"It's too nice outside to not." The weather had shifted unexpectedly; teasing everyone with spring. It was perfect weather for eating lunch outside or driving with the sunroof open. Any excuse to leave his cramped office for a few minutes was okay with Casey. He could feel the sun on his face when he stepped out of the building. It felt amazing.

"So how have things been at the House? I heard Hermann was taking the Lieutenant's exam. Did he get his results back yet?"

"Yeah, he did actually. He passed. I'm happy for him, I think it's going to be a really good for him and his family."

"Is he looking for an opening at another station? I heard 99's got an open spot for Lieutenant on Truck. I have a few buddies that work second watch there."

Severide looked at his feet. "He's, uh, he's going to be staying at 51 for now." He looked away from Casey and brought a cigarette to his lips. He lit up awkwardly, the click of his lighter the only sound in the painful silence.

Horrible realization hit Casey like a punch to the gut. He was being replaced by Hermann. If he put it that way, it sounded so final. As if there was no way for him to ever return to 51. He was happy for Hermann, he really was. Really. He had worked hard, and he deserved every bit of what he had gotten in return. How was it, then, that he had given so much and worked so hard, only to lose everything and everyone that he had managed to scrape together?

That's the bitterness that Andy said doesn't look good on me. Dammit if I can't hear him saying that to me right now. 

When Casey finally spoke, his voice was strained and rough. He felt like he was swallowing shards of glass, his throat hurt so much. "Oh. Well, good for Hermann. He deserves it." He swallowed painfully. "Give me one of those." He pointed at Severide's half smoked cigarette, eyes pleading. "Please."

Severide shook out a cigarette from the pack and handed it to Casey, holding out a light for him as he inhaled deeply. "Seriously, if people knew we smoked. We'd be in some deep shit." He laughed. "Shay threw a fit on me once. She even bought me this industrial size box of nicotine gum."

Casey sat back on the bench, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed as he took a drag. "We run into burning and collapsing buildings, I feel like smoking's the least of our health hazards."

Ran. Gotta remember, ran. 

"You should hear my dad and my pops, the stuff they used to say. 'We used to go into buildings with a halligan in one hand and a cigarette in the other.' Like we're a bunch of assholes with our SCBAs and everything." That drew a grin from Casey. Right now, this conversation with Severide was just like old times. Before everything went to hell; before Andy died, before Hallie died, and before his brain was scrambled. Before he had to leave 51.

"I don't really have to worry about that anymore." Casey took a sip of his coffee, the smoothness warm on his tongue. "I went to the doctor a few weeks ago. I never told you. Doctor White thinks that I am going to have more long-term effects than he originally thought. I have to keep going back for checkups to be sure. But he doesn't think that I'll be able to return to firefighting. I found out a few days before I started here at HQ." He turned to look at Severide. His eyes were sadder than Severide had ever remembered; he was also calm and cool. It couldn't be that he was accepting that diagnosis? The Casey he had always known was a stubborn bastard, a hell of a fighter. There was no fight left in the dull blue eyes staring at Severide.

"But you don't know for sure, right? Things can change, you can get better. You don't know what your progress will be six months from now." Severide didn't know what else to say. It sounded like Casey was being realistic, not giving up; it didn't make the news easier to hear.

"I have gotten better. I almost died. I'm functional, even though I talk to dead people. Still haven't told my doctor that one. He really wouldn't clear me for firefighting if I told him that one. He'd probably up my doses." An unexpected smile broke out on Casey's face. "You know, office work isn't really that bad. I guess it's boring, but my risk of being incinerated on the job is much lower than you."

"I think you're lying about it not being that bad, but okay." Severide switched tracks. "You know, a lot of people at the station have asked about you. You haven't come around to visit at all since your injury." He knew it had to be painful for Casey to think about returning to the firehouse. It might take time for him to feel okay about coming back. "Do you remember what you said to Vargas, when you came and saved both our asses up there on the roof? About 51 being a family. It doesn't matter what you're doing now, 51 is always going to be your house, Casey. Listen to your own good advice." Severide offered a crooked smile and dropped his cigarette in his empty coffee cup. "I'm on shift tomorrow. Katie's coming in to help Otis cook dinner. You should come in, if you want. I think you'd have a really good time."

Casey nodded, "Okay. You're right. I haven't wanted to come back to the house. I know it's not really healthy to avoid going back. I'll see if Gabby wants to come too. I'll make something good for dessert."

"Great. Seriously, man, it'll be really good for you to come back to the house. I think you'll have a good time."

"Hey, listen. I have to get back to work, but thanks for…." The coffee, the donut, the cigarette, the reassuring banter? "…everything. How about I call you after I get off work, we can grab some beers?" NAs for me. Casey stood up, free from dizziness at the moment.

"Sounds good. Don't work too hard or anything. See you later, Casey." Severide clapped Casey on his back. He felt as bony and thin as he looked. I should have bought him two donuts, Severide thought half-seriously as he walked away.

 

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Lunchtime, at least it would be if Casey was eating lunch. He scanned his phone. No missed calls, no messages. He thought about sending Gabby a text. She would be at lunch at the Academy too; she wouldn't have any excuse for not replying to him.

Babe. Just wanted to say I love you. Hope you had a good morning.

Send. 

He would rather call her, but Gabs loved to text. Casey was always afraid he would say something stupid and horribly out of context in a text; something he couldn't take back. So far he'd been safe, sticking to "I love you's" and "Have a good day's". He wasn't rocking the boat in that department.

His phone began to ring quietly. It was Gabby. He eagerly reached for the cell, answering halfway through the second ring. "Hey, babe."

"Hey, yourself. How's the office?"

"Monotonous and mind numbingly dull, so completely normal. How's the Academy?"

"It's okay. Not a lot of estrogen in my class. I ate lunch by myself today."

Casey winced. He wasn't sure what to say. "Severide came by with coffee for me this morning. He invited us to come to 51 for dinner tomorrow night. It's an Otis and Katie special, I guess. I said we'd try to make it, unless you had other plans or something. I thought I'd make some banana cake for dessert."

Gabby barely let Casey finish before jumping in. "That sounds great! Shay's been bugging me to come in and bring you with me." Casey was relieved. He was worried he was going to have to try to bargain with Gabby to get her to go to dinner at the firehouse tomorrow night.

"Great. I'm glad you called and I could run that past you. I'm on my lunch break now, and I have a gigantic pile of papers calling my name as soon as I get back."

"Okay, I have to get back too. I'll see you at home tonight. I was thinking about picking up a bottle of wine and making pasta tonight."

"That sounds good. Love you."

"Love you, too. See you tonight." Casey tossed his phone on his desk. Back to work. He wished those papers would just disappear. A stack of files tipped over the edge of Casey's desk; papers fluttered all over the floor. Casey sighed. If it's not one thing, it's another. He bent down to pick up the papers. A wave of dizziness hit him when he slowly tried to stand up. He gripped the edge of the desk and waited for it to pass.

"You okay, Matt?" Casey looked up to see a double vision of Andy sitting on the edge of his desk. He blinked twice to clear his sight. "You looked pale. Sorry if I scared you."

"You've showed up so many times; if I haven't been scared already, I'm not going to start being scared of seeing you now."

"Good point. So, that was Dawson, huh? It sounded like you were having a good conversation. You guys work everything out?"

Casey ran a hand through his short hair. "Sort of. We're working on it. We're still trying. That's what's important, I think."

Andy nodded, distracted by a framed photo on Casey's desk. "You still have that picture? You even got a frame for it. That's brings back memories, right there." Casey picked up the small framed photo of Severide, Andy, and himself. It was taken after they all graduated from the Academy. They were all so young, and they all looked so happy, all enormous smiles and sparkling eyes. "Oh to be young again, although I'd settle for being alive. I have to say, though, Casey, if I have to haunt someone's ass, I'm glad it's yours. Seriously, I mean that." Andy threw back his head and laughed, the same dimples and flash of white teeth as in the photo. Casey smiled too, except his didn't quite reach his eyes.

"What are friends for, right, Andy?" Casey stacked the messy file folders on his desk, and in the time it took to look down and then back up again, Andy had pulled his disappearing act.

Typical Darden. Casey smiled to himself. Still hasn't changed.

 

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A soft knock at the door jostled Casey awake. He was not sleeping on the job, no matter what it looked like. If anything, he was resting his eyes after poring over dozens and dozens of files. "It's open. Come on in."

It was Antonio and Erin. They both looked somber, it didn't look like they were here on a social visit like Severide earlier that morning.

"Matt, are you busy now?" Antonio seemed distracted. He shot a nervous sideways glance at Erin, who looked equally distracted and uncomfortable.

"No, not really. I just finished going through a huge file of backlogged leave requests. What's going on? Did Gabby send you to check up on me?"

Antonio ran a hand over his face tiredly and cleared his throat. "Matt, CPD got a call from the Miami-Dade County sheriff's department today."

Heather and the boys.

 

End of Unglued.


End file.
